On the Dark Height of Jura
Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yelling Rise on the night-rolling breath of the blast, When o'er the dark aether the tempest...
This is a poetry & verse.
Ghosts of the dead! have I not heard your yelling Rise on the night-rolling breath of the blast, When o'er the dark aether the tempest is swelling, And on eddying whirlwind the thunder-peal passed? For oft have I stood on the dark height of Jura, Which frowns on the valley that opens beneath; Oft have I braved the chill night-tempest's fury, Whilst around me, I thought, echoed murmurs of death.…
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